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Torment Completed	By : Kvarta Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 31713 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

Chapter List
- 117
- 118
- 119
A/N: Thank you all for your support, kudos, comments, and klicks.
I skipped sending this chapter to my beta, again. So, all mistakes are mine as always.
Harry shifted nervously on the chair; it was the most uncomfortable piece of furniture he had the misfortune to sit on. Snape paced in front of him. Harry wished to tell him to sit or at least stop pacing, but he knew better.
For the past four years, Snape learned to tolerate him, same as he learned to tolerate Snape. He could appreciate the fact that Snape was trying. Harry had a nagging suspicion that effort was made on Hermione’s behalf, even if he could not get any proof to his claim.
His wand vibrated again, and he ignored it. He told everyone that he’ll take the morning off, it’s not like the department would fall apart if he wasn’t there for a couple of hours. In fact, Harry was thinking about changing the department, to somewhere where they could use his skills instead of his fame. But there was still so much to do, public opinion moved slowly from the old ways.
Severus huffed.
“She’ll be fine. It’s Hermione, and if there is one thing, she’s good at- it is studying and passing tests with flying colours.” He tried to…
Harry wasn’t so sure what he was trying to do. What he did was to draw Snape’s attention to himself.
“There is one more thing she is apt at- throwing hexes at idiots.” Snape snapped at him.
“Yes, but she is…” Harry tried.
“She is in the room full of old, prejudicial idiots. She is my Apprentice and they won’t go easy on her.” Severus hissed.
“She is not a fool.” Harry tried to placate the increasingly annoyed Potion Master. It won’t bode well if Snape decided to go in the next room. In Harry’s opinion, Snape was a more likely candidate to throw hexes.
The door cracked and Harry stood up. Snape stilled, reminding him of a snake ready to attack. Hermione slipped through the door, frowning. The moment door closed behind her she growled.
“Idiots! Bunch of bloody old farts.”
“What happened?” Harry asked, glancing at the stormy expression on Snape’s face. “Did they- flanked you?”
“Fla-what? No! Of course not! I gained my Mistress title.” Hermione turned to him. “But you wouldn’t believe the questions they asked. Wankers. They asked me, and with all the smugness they could muster, mind you, where do I plan to find employment being a collaborator? The nerve…”
“So, you hexed them?” Harry breathed out, wondering if he should go in and assess the damage.
“No, I informed them that I already secured employment with my Master. We are opening the Apothecary to sell our products, along with contracts not only from St. Mungo’s but also various other hospitals over the world. I had the pleasure of informing them that all improvements on the existing potions are patented to only two of us, as well as all the new potions we developed.” Hermione grinned a smile that scared him. “You should have seen their faces! They asked me if I’m aware that Apprentice can’t patent a potion to his or her name, and that all developed potions belong to the Guild.”
A soft growl forced Harry to flinch. Snape was sitting on the chair glaring at the door.
If she didn’t hex them, he will. I must take them away from this place.
“The nerve,” he agreed with her. “Shall we go to the Rosebush?”
“To the Rosebush? No, we are going to the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate. And it is a double celebration. They got nothing!” Hermione laughed. “Good thing I told Blaze to patent everything on the name Snape-Prince.”
Harry noticed that Snape looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“But, Hermione, then- nothing is in your name.” He whispered.
“I’m not concerned, we have a contract, Severus and I; I’m still well off. Besides…” She stopped talking and waved her hand. “Let’s go celebrate.”
She moved to the exit; Severus followed her still looking thunderous.
~ S ~ S ~ S ~
Hermione entered the house. The celebratory lunch was- well, civil might be a word to describe it. Harry and Severus had a semi-decent conversation once Severus stopped fuming. The questions Guild commission asked he took as a personal insult.
Good thing I didn’t tell them about all the questions they asked.
She found it offensive, even more so, in her commission were not only men but women as well.
Who would want to marry me? Hah, like all my worth is in being married.
She had to bite her tongue, and hard not to give a reply to that question. No matter how much she wanted to. They had an agreement… He promised her…
Well, that was then. For the past four years, Severus diverted to calling her Apprentice or Miss Granger again. He was- not distant, but he maintained a civil and proper distance from her. Not once in all these years, she got even a glimpse of passion they shared.
The swarm of an angry butterfly’s wreaked havoc inside her belly and did their best to break free by clogging her throat. But she had to talk to him.
Four years is a bloody long time.
Hermione felt torn, afraid that he changed his mind. She didn’t want to impose on him, to force him into a relationship he didn’t want to be in, or he might perceive as another form servitude. But love was not the offer on the table, never had been, at least not from his side.
For gruellingly long four years she tried to let him know, discreetly, that he still held all her interest- professional and emotional. She refused all the suitors. She socialised mostly with a small group of trusted friends. She avoided going in public without him…
Ok, fine, I avoided the journalists and public scrutiny as well.
She even developed a rather tentative friendship like relationship with Lucius Malfoy. Being friends with Narcissa was easy, even with Draco and Astoria. Lucius, she had to work for it, to give her best not to poison him. She perfected his medication. Not one of her brightest moments, given the circumstances, but he still was Severus’ best friend, brother by choice. Hermione could respect that.
What now?
Someone grabbed her from behind and lifted. She squeaked, surprised with an unexpected twirl in the air. A voice whispered.
“You lost, pay up.”
“Blaise, you idiot. I could have hexed you into yesterday!” Hermione laughed. “Now, would you be so kind to…”
Hermione squeaked again when Blaise dropped her. A growling swirl of black robes stormed next to them. Blaise helped her to remain on her feet as Severus nearly ran over her.
“Are you hurt?” He asked, worried.
“No, but he might be when I’m done with him.” Hermione hissed.
“What’s wrong?” Blaise blinked, confused.
“I have no idea, I’ll find out,” she shook her head. “But later, you’ll tell me every bit of detail about your date.”
Hades flapped into the entrance hall, squawking loudly. He landed on her shoulder and ducked his head in her hair.
“Bloody hell,” Hermione muttered. “I will flay him alive if he destroyed something of value again.”
She headed to the workroom, halfway there she changed her mind and rushed to her room. Ignoring the mess, she left in the room that morning, Hermione picked up one scroll and with determined steps walked to the workroom.
Severus was at the window, back rigid, hands tightly clasped at the small of his back.
“I do not recall inviting you in. Remove yourself from my presence.” Severus hissed, not turning back.
“No,” she replied calmly.
“You will obey my…” Severus turned to her, face frozen in a stoned mask.
“I don’t have to obey anything you say anymore.” Hermione tilted her head. She neared him slowly but determinedly.
“How dare you…” Severus growled in a low tone, anger vibrating in his voice.
“How dare I- what?”
~ S ~ S ~ S ~
Severus forced himself to stay as he was, not to move a muscle. He gazed at Hermione, her eyes narrowed in a thin slit, anger radiating from her. His throat felt too dry to produce any sound similar to normal speech. In retrospect, it was a blessing in disguise that he formed his thoughts as a question rather than what they truly were.
Don’t you dare leave me…
He wanted her to storm off, angry, insulted. He wanted her to show any inkling of affection. To leave him alone to lick his wounds. Not to prolong inevitable. To tell him in no uncertain terms that she still loves him. To bind him with his promise made so long ago. He made all those promises, the Apothecary, the job of an assistant… He also promised that he’ll stay with her, marry her, according to the Old Laws and the Match if she desires so.
She changed her mind; the choking fear reared his head under the swirl of thoughts. He also promised to himself that he will let her go if she changes her mind.
Four years of inhuman control, cold showers, and every feeling he had for her masked in anger and aloofness, it was almost a second nature by now. He summoned it to his aid.
“As per the agreement, as my assistant, you will open and run the Apothecary. Now, that you are the Potions Mistress, I’ll transfer the patent rights to your name, for all potions you developed. I will, however, retain the rights on all improvements, with a regular fixed percentage that belongs to you,” his voice sounded unnaturally calm.
“In other words, you are angry at me for protecting our accomplishments without gaining your blessing beforehand?” Hermione tilted her head.
No, I am angry at them, at myself but never at you. “I have a full right… You should have talked to me about it, not just assume- and certainly not just instruct my Secretary what to do. You do not run my bloody life like I’m incompetent.” He hissed through clenched teeth.
“Really? My first year as Apprentice, you drilled in my head how to negotiate, haggle, how to deal with red tape and Ministry. You groomed me to be the front while you can play ‘mad scientist’ from old movies and cartoons, locked in your laboratory.” Hermione growled, wrinkling her brows in a frown. “And now, you are complaining when I do something without asking you. And not just anything, when I react to protect our work…”
“I would expect that you consult me on such matters,” Severus replied, bringing as much ice and scorn in his voice as he could. “It seems that all my lessons failed, considering that you transferred all your findings and patents to my name.”
“Better to yours than to gift them to the Guild.” Hermione shrugged. “It is done. What is that you wish me to do now?”
“Correctly, it is done. However, I can rectify it. And as for what I wish- I wish for you to remove yourself from my sight…” He growled, narrowing his eyes. No, I want you to say that you will stay, to remind me what I promised. To force me… To say that you still love me.
Severus could see in her features, all anger drained from her, replaced with something hard and cold. The edge, of whatever it was, clear in her voice.
“If that is what you wish… Prepare the documentation.” Hermione nodded, spun on her heel to walk out of the room, her back straight, shoulders square and head lifted high.
Few steps made, and she stopped, twirling to face him. Her face was an odd mixture of reluctance, determination, and something he couldn’t put his finger on. Severus blinked at her; she unrolled the scroll. It was their Apprenticeship contract. She mutely pointed at their signatures. Letters that all these years glowed with a golden hue, now stood at the bottom in dull black ink. Not a trace of binding magic in them. Severus scowled at the parchment.
Hermione showed the parchment in his hands, bunching his robe in her hand. She yanked him and he lost his balance briefly, enough for her to press her lips at his. His brain went on strike, abandoning his motor skills and closing shut his speech centre. Hermione pulled back, leaving him feeling stranded and lost.
“This was for me.” Hermione half hissed – half growled the words, voice raspy. “Now you can write any bloody document you want. I’ll be out of your hair.”
She swiftly turned and left the room at a brisk pace before he came to his senses. The door clicked the resounding sound of her departure, Severus weakly leaned on the window frame. Emptiness hollowed him inside. He closed his prickling eyes and took a few deep breaths.
If that is what she wants…
The need to escape was enormous. The need to run his hand over his lips even stronger. His lips still tingled from the sensation. The pain forced the air out of his lungs at the thought… No, he won’t allow himself to raise his walls again, he won’t fall in that trap again.
Severus opened his eyes moving to the desk. His hand shook slightly when he took a quill. After only a few lines he frowned. His handwriting always resembled as a spider dunked in ink had crawled over the paper. Judging by the evidence in front of him, now the spider zigzagged like a drunk sailor. He crumpled the parchment, contemplating should he call Zabini and dictate the contract…
The door opened again, only to show the blond hair of Draco.
“Not now, Draco. I’m busy.” He growled.
“Doing what? Anyway, mother sent me to call you and Hermione to the dinner tonight.” Draco entered the room, ignoring his gruff remark.
“You may deliver the invitation to Miss Granger. She is in her room. And I’ll write the apology to Narcissa. Now if you don’t mind…” Severus fought to keep calmness in his voice.
At this point, his hands trembled enough that he’ll have to take a few drops of Calming Draught.
Where is that damn vial?
Years ago, Hermione took on her to care for the potions in the house, he didn’t even know where she held them. Apart from making potions for sale, he didn’t touch them if she didn’t hand them to him.
Bloody menace.
“Why is she in her room? Why are you not celebrating? What is she doing in her room?” Draco asked, his pale eyes suddenly alert.
“Miss Granger…” He started but Draco interrupted him.
“Miss Granger? Severus, what is going on?” Draco’s voice now had an edge of panic.
“Yes, Miss Granger... She is no longer my Apprentice.” Severus hissed. Emptiness filled with pain twisted inside him.
“Is she packing to leave?” Draco stood up.
“Tell me Draco, do I look like a seer to you?” Severus struggled to stay calm.
Is Draco… Is she packs? That never occurred to him, not before Draco brought it up.
“You are a fool, Severus.” Draco hissed at him, looking angry. “You have a witch, smart and a powerful witch who loves you more than her own life, and you will let her go.”
“My private affairs are my own…” Severus started to raise from his seat, not the best idea considering that his legs felt weak.
“You made it my business when you insisted that I am the one to poke around your head. Now, as your healer and your blood, I’ll tell you- you are a fool. You may hex me, but if you let that witch… The one that loves you. The one you love… if you let her walk out of your life…” Draco raised his voice, choking on the words. “Deliver the invitation by yourself, and your apologies too.”
Draco stormed off, leaving him blinking at the closed door, hands shaking.
Is she leaving? Where is that bloody…
His thoughts interrupted when elf popped handing him a vile with Calming Draught.
“Madam said take this to Master, young Master Draco upset Master.” Squeaked the elf and vanished.
She knew him so well. She knew him better than he knew himself. He’s lost without her. He had to find the way and keep her. Taking the vial, he noticed a loosened cork.
Bollocks.
Severus gave up on a Drought. He took one large, deep breath to steady himself and forced his body to move.
The first floor of the Mansion never looked higher. Knocking would be polite, but Severus his arms felt heavy, too heavy to lift them for a knock. Fortifying his resolve, he opened the door.
“If you think you can…” he started.
Severus wasn’t sure what he’ll say, probably something utterly stupid. However, he had to do something. His thoughts came to a screeching halt, his brain only now registered the image in front of him. Hermione was sitting on the floor, surrounded by half-packed trunks.
Draco, you bloody wanker.
The kid had it right. It hurt, that Draco figured her out better than even he could.
Hermione’s eyes, filled with tears, stared at him wide with a mixture of shock, fear, and sadness. Hands in her lap held in a death grip on family jewels, the ones he gave her so long ago, for the first official appearance as his Secretary.
The pain-filled emptiness twisted the air out of his body, his mind blank.
- 117
- 118
- 119
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Torment *Completed*

Torment Completed